


Past, Present and Future:  John Reese

by Mooninscorpio



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Male Friendship, Romantic Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooninscorpio/pseuds/Mooninscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These three short ficklets follow the emotional aftermath affecting John Reese, of the events which occurred between "Lethe" and "Deux Ex Machina".  Reese struggles to live an ordinary life in NYC until one quiet Sunday morning, when his cellphone rings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past, Present and Future:  John Reese

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mamahub and Blacktop50](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mamahub+and+Blacktop50).



The Past  
"Lethe" (John's River of Forgetfulness)

He lay still. his mind in pain-filled forgetfulness, feeling the light furry nudge of Bear's muzzle against his limp hand. He heard the steady beep of the heart monitor and the felt the swell of the blood pressure cuff against his arm. Finch's voice breaking the staccato of the monitor as he whispered to Shaw. Shaw was the one who stood near the monitor, checking on his vital signs. She was a medical intern, his life was in good hands for now. He thought he was dead at one point, as he felt the sudden feeling of cool medication going into his veins, making the pain recede and images of Carter floating before him, Carter smiling, her arm outstretched, wearing a beautiful while dress, her face a vision of love, that he never saw while she was stil alive … the image shattered and replaced by another of her, her eyes closed in death, her hair matted against her forehead, his hot tears falling on her cheeks as she spoke her last words, what were they? "don't let this … " she never finished her last sentence. The pain of hell crashing down on him as he cradled her for the last time. The pain in hid gut returned, another dose of morphine, he floated in Lethe again … Carter and he were lying together in the warm water, the sun on their faces, laughing, making love together in the lake. She got dressed again in the tank top and jeans she wore the day they walked through Harlem looking for the sailors' club. He reached for her again, trying to remove her clothes, for another swim together. Carter backed away, teasing him with the promise of more.

He woke up again, this time, his head was clear, his pain was under control. Finch was dozing beside him, Bear's head on his wrist, Shaw was slowly coming towards him as she saw him waken. Bittersweet relief at being alive, as his hazy vision registered the clock on the wall, and Finch's presence safely nearby. Carter is dead, his world is dead without her, without the chance to give her the love he wanted to since he first saw her. As soon as I get off this bed, I will kill Quinn and Simmons, he silently vowed. He looked at Bear's sad eyes and his hand reached for him.

The Present  
"Provenance" (final scene)

John stared into the fire as everyone joked about their latest case, heard the glasses chink as they toasted "to the team". Startled , he looked at Fusco, then Finch and Shaw and slowly, he took the empty glass, filled it, and said "there's a team mate missing" and pushed the glass to the center of the table. Everyone stared at him, wondering if he was going to go over the edge again, for a split second, silence, as they mulled over their own thoughts at his somber words. They raised their glasses to Joss silently, each in their own musings. Fusco broke the silence with a joke. John shot him an irritable glance. No, you weren't there, holding her in your arms as she lay dying, he bitterly reminisced. I don't expect you to know the pain I felt Lionel. He looked back into the flames, his thoughts wanting to drown in the River of Forgetfulness.

The Future  
"Diasposa" (post-"Deus Ex Machina")

John turned to look back one last, painful time at Finch and Bear, his heart etching their every feature into his mind, perhaps never to see them both alive again. He saw so many conflicting emotions on Harold's face - extreme concern, loss, gratitude for everything, silent acknowledgement of their rock solid friendship and trust, and most of all, care and love for him as a human being. Their last moments walking down the streets of NY were in silence, they had their last heartfelt conversation back in the Library before closing its gate for the last time. Back there, they both let one another know just how far they have come together in their shared mission, and John even told Harold how Harold had changed him. The very words he had spoken to Joss in the morgue before he kissed her. By sheer force of will, he turned his back away from them before he could change his mind and die with him that moment on that street corner, his life's purpose ended for all intents and purposes, but John walked down Ave. of the Americas, with his worldly goods in his black bag, walking into his unknown future...

November 2014

John looked at his blank cellphone screen again for the thousandth time. Out of habit, he vaguely touched his ear for the missing earpiece, no longer needed. He looked at his nondescript navy blue night shift uniforms hanging neatly in his sparse closet, the Diehl logo like an unwelcome reminder of his new ordinary existence and his new name James Baer, in gold print, on the pockets. Root picked a winner didn't she? he mused bitterly. She'd called me "his faithful watchdog" and now she'd never let me forget it, now that I'm forced to live without him and Bear. He missed Shaw in his own way, missed some of the excitement of their special ops takedowns-they became a good team, once she began to trust in their mission. He missed Fusco's smartass remarks, his invaluable help to him in the eleventh hour and most of all, he missed the example of the good man he had become after he went through the furnace of HR hell, got his son back and later, pulled Reese out of his drunken stupor and beat the crap out of him outside the dive bar in Colorado.

Saturday night again - no date, no women, just his old Bruce Lee DVDs, and the large leather bed he had kept from the apartment Harold had furnished for him, above Mr. Han's chessboard table in the park. Reese lay, staring at the small pink bottle of cologne he kept on top of his dresser by  
the alarm clock. It was still half-filled, the one two ounce bottle standing like the only woman in the room, amid his sparsely decorated room. He closed his eyes as he felt the burning tears building behind them - holding Joss in his arms as she died, her eyes closing as she struggled to say, "don't let this …" Finch lifting him to his feet, as he staggered with his own mortal wound, his violent protests to let him die here with her, "just go Finch, I'm dying with her!" A small crackling sound of a glass bottle falling out of her jacket pocket as he brought his lips to her forehead to kiss her one last time. He grabbed it as the sirens loomed closer and Finch dragged him into the backseat, speeding away from the forlorn scene of Carter, still on the ground, still warm, one less good person in the world, that it couldn't afford the loss of.

Without a purpose, without Harold and the Mission to save the Numbers, and not knowing how much power Samaritan had accumulated since that fateful day it received the government feeds, John needed a purpose again, but what could he do in his new ordinary job delivering parcels to nameless offices all over the city? An ex-op who couldn't even be seen with his weapons or register them legally? He had thought in a moment of lonely madness that a he had seen Harold in a bookstore, sitting behind a newspaper. He scoured the pedestrians on his drives during early evening deliveries, searching for the familiar faces of his former Team mates, but no one's eyes met his in recognition. Not even Zoe, whom he hadn't seen since the ladies took on the lady killer's number. How wrong you were Zoe, that no woman could ever fix me. Joss did that, and you will never know it because she's dead and I'm the living, walking dead, no numbers, no Finch, no purpose, and I can't even become a homeless bum, because Samaritan would track me down on the street and label me Deviant, socially unacceptable, and I'd end up really dead this time Maybe I should've stayed in the precinct and come in from the cold and let Carter take me out of my misery back then. he signed heavily and drifted off into fitful sleep.

He slept till 7:30 next morning and awoke to the distant peals of church bells. Half-awake, wanting his usual coffee and bagels, he dressed quickly and went out two blocks down to get breakfast. "Oren's" was just opening, and the cashier, knowing her Sunday customer, let him in as she got the coffee machine started. She turned to smile at him, maybe a little too appreciatively. Although John had a goatee now, his hair more gray at the temples, he had an air of… mystery and vulnerability, and forbidding reserve. He chose the coffee of the day, two plain bagels and extra cream cheese. She stared at his face, couldn't read anything behind his expression. He smiled a little but it never reached his eyes, she noticed. New Yorkers don't ask questions, don't pry too much unless invited, she looked down into the register to give him back change. John studied the young woman, sizing her up as in his op days, twenty-five, just earning enough to get by, no wedding band or fancy jewelry, but clean and neat. Just like my own life now, he mused. Is this what it means to lose your connection to the world, and then have to be thrust into that world, to morph into the man next door, just getting by, nobody having your back anymore and not having to have anyone else's either?

He walked back to his apartment, apt. 4C.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Startled, he nearly dropped his coffee. It buzzed again insistently and grabbing it he saw the message ….Unknown Caller…..


End file.
